Impractical Jokes
by mapark
Summary: The Phantom has more on his hands than he expected as he tries to pull his usual antics on his temporary linemate while Marco is on vacation. NB: a reworking of a story initially published on another site some fifteen years ago.
1. Chapter 1

**Impractical Jokes** **  
** **by mapark**

 _ **Emergency! and its characters are owned by Universal and Mark VII, but I like to trot them out now and again and mess around with them before I put them back.**_

 _ **Shift One:**_

Hank withdrew a newspaper clipping from the file in front of them, sighed, then shrugged and headed to the day room. His crew should be there soon enough, and he wanted to get this latest wrinkle out of the way before they started their shift. He was surprised to see that all his regular crew was here – it was just the temporary firefighter who hadn't yet arrived. He cleared his throat, and tossed the clipping on the table in front of his linesman while he went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

Chet snatched up the clipping, and scowled at the caption under the small photo proclaiming, "Feminists praise Los Angeles County Fire Department for leading the way by hiring three female firefighters."

"Is this a joke, Cap? I _know_ that's my sister in the photo… I've seen that clipping every time I visit her, and I hear about her life as a paramedic _all the time_." He tossed the clipping back to the table and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, I know she's tough, but that doesn't mean I wanna work with her."

"No joke, Chet – guess who's replacing Marco for the next couple of weeks? Not your sister, but Holly Ramsey," Hank said, sipping his coffee and suppressing a grin at his linesman's discomposure.

"Do you mean we're getting one of _them_ while Marco's on vacation?" Chet asked indignantly.

Johnny laughed at Chet's protest. "Chet, you make it sound like someone from another planet. She's only a _**girl**_. She won't bite – unless you ask her very nicely." He picked up an apple from the counter and started munching on it as he sat down at the table next to Chet. "'Course, she'd have to be nuts or drunk to want to do _that_ ," he smirked.

Chet gave Johnny a humourless smile. "Just you wait, Gage, things will be _all wrong_. I mean, I'm used to having Marco on the other end of that hose line. Some chick is _not_ going to be able to do the same job as Marco, it's that simple."

Johnny stared at him in amazement. "Chet, you've _never_ made this kind of fuss the other times Marco's been on vacation. Besides, aren't you the one who said that a girl can do this job just as well as a man? At least after you saw Cassie doing it..."

Chet replied with some heat, "You know that's a completely different situation. It's not because she's a girl, it's because she's my sister. And she and Katya are working as paramedics, not firefighters. Totally different case."

Johnny enjoyed Chet's discomfort tremendously. "They're also trained as firefighters, and _none_ of them would've passed unless they were good enough. Are you saying your sister isn't a girl?" he needled, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to get even with his habitual tormentor.

"Of course she's a girl. And pretty damned strong… but that's not the point. She, Katya and Holly are sort of an experiment the department's running, and who knows what things will be like when they're finished their little tests after a year or so?"

Johnny shook his head. "You amaze me sometimes, Chet. You're as much of a male chauvinist pig as _I_ am, and you don't hear _me_ dissing them."

"Yeah, well, it won't be _your_ life on the line if she's too weak to handle the hoses."

Unseen by either of them, Holly Ramsey had come in. She was about to speak when Mike waved her to silence. Smiling wickedly, she paused in the doorway, folded her arms across her chest, and cocked her head to the side as she listened to Chet and Johnny.

Chet continued, oblivious to Holly's presence. "Gage, it's a matter of anatomy and strength. You know what it's like on a hose line. You and your partner have to be a team. You have to be balanced," he insisted, taking a sip of some coffee.

Holly uncrossed her arms, glanced down at her chest and said loudly, "Are you suggesting that I'm _not_ balanced, Chet?"

Chet choked and sputtered on his coffee as the others laughed. Holly turned to Mike, juggled her hands in front of her chest and asked, "I don't know, Mike, you're the engineer. Should I have 'em rotated or something? We wouldn't want Chet to be off balance, would we?"

There was more laughter and Johnny smiled brightly. _At last_ , _someone who might be able to trip up the Phantom_. _I know from KJ and the others at Station 16 all about your perverted sense of humour involving Jell-O. I'll bet Chet doesn't know about that – not yet, anyway!_

Hank put down his mug of coffee and approached Holly with his hand outstretched. "Welcome aboard, Holly," he said as he shook her hand. "I'll show you where you can stow your gear." She followed him into the locker room and started to unload her knapsack. Hank quirked an eyebrow as he saw Holly carefully tuck at least half a dozen packages of Jell-O under her hat on the shelf of the locker. "Is there something I should know about this?" he asked in amusement, gesturing at the cache of Jell-O.

Holly answered seriously, with a completely straight face, "Captain, I'm never without a Jell-O supply, no matter where I go. You never know when a perfect opportunity will arise. And I _think_ a pigeon has just flown into my little trap," she added, her lips twisting into an impish smile.

Hank put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Keep me out of it – and don't let it get out of hand, okay?"

Holly smirked and said, "Cap, you've got a deal. Which is Chet's locker?"

Hank shook his head. "You'll have to get another co-conspirator. Try Johnny," he suggested, while gesturing her to the dorm. He led the way to a curtained-off alcove in the corner of the dorm. "You'll sleep here, and we've put a sign on the bathroom that can be flipped to 'women' when you're using the facilities. Any questions?"

"No, Captain, I think that covers the bases. I don't suppose you'd care to point out Chet's bed?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

Hank laughed and shook his head. "No fair, Holly – you already know the answer to that one. Just tread lightly."

She gave him a sharp salute. "Aye-aye, Captain! I guess we'd better get to roll call, right?" she asked, adjusting her badge and brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her pants.

He gestured for her to precede him to the engine bay. She gave him a small bow, then went to roll call. She noticed Chet eying her speculatively, and she glanced coyly at him out of the corner of her eye, then flashed him a quick Cheshire-cat smile before schooling her features into a more neutral expression. He looked back in momentary confusion, and she flashed her dimples at him. His brow furrowed slightly, and Holly thought to herself, _This is going to be soooo easy! I'll give him enough line to hang himself, then I'll reel him in, sloooowly.  
_  
Johnny noticed the subtle interchange with some interest. _At last, a worthy ally in the continuing war with the Phantom!_

"Okay, everyone, listen up. We have hydrant inspections on Market, River, Dayton, and Boone. Kelly, you're on latrine duty. Ramsey, Stoker, hose room – 'C' shift had an apartment house fire last shift, so there's plenty of hose to scrub and hang. Gage, kitchen. DeSoto, dorm. Any questions? Okay, we'll do the hydrants at around ten o'clock. Who's cooking today?" Hank asked.

Mike spoke up, "I'm the chef of the day, Cap."

Hank looked at his clipboard. "Okay, Ramsey, that means you're the cook for the next shift." At her look of dismay, he asked, "Something wrong?"

Holly cleared her throat and said, "You might not like my cooking. See, it'll be Pesach, so I'm kind of limited in what I can prepare."

Chet asked, "What is Pesach?"

She replied, "That's the Hebrew word for 'Passover'. There are all kinds of things that I'm not supposed to eat or prepare during that time. However, there are some reasonably tasty things that can be prepared that are still Kosher."

Hank's eyebrows rose slightly, then he said, a bit uncomfortably, "I'm sure you'll do fine. Okay, everyone, let's get to work."

After roll call was over, Holly strolled over to Chet, tickled him under the chin and said, "Okay, Chet, how do you want to work this when we get a call? Do you want to be lead man on the hose or backup?"

Chet coughed in embarrassment, cleared his throat nervously, and said, "I'll lead, you'll do backup. Just how long have you been a firefighter, anyway?" he asked.

She gave him a look of exasperation, and patted his cheek. "Long enough to know which end of a hose is which. C'mon, Chet. I've been Cassie's roommate for a couple of years, you know how long it's been since your sister and I graduated from the academy; do the math," she said sweetly, heading to the hose room.

Johnny's grin broadened at Chet's discomfort. "What's the matter, Chet? Met your match?"

Chet flushed. "Shut up, Gage. At least she's got more on the ball than you do – but then, so does a hamster."

Johnny was about to speak, when he was interrupted by the klaxon.

 _ **"Station 51, structure fire, 1288 Hillier. One-two-eight-eight Hillier, cross-street Phillips. Time out, 08:13."**_

-E!-

Hank was pleased. He admitted to himself that he had been a bit concerned about how Holly would work out, but she'd just dispelled any doubts he'd had. She certainly had no trouble with working a hose line or the strenuous job of overhauling. As they pulled into the station, he glanced back to the compartment. Chet was grinning broadly as he and Holly chatted. Holly made a remark that Hank couldn't hear, and he was amused to see the grin slide almost comically off Chet's face. Hank smiled widely at the look of bewilderment that replaced Chet's grin. _This is going to be an interesting couple of weeks...  
_  
As everyone climbed out of the engine, Hank said, "Holly, could I see you for a minute in the office?"

She frowned slightly and said, "Sure, Cap." She followed him to the office and asked, "Is something wrong?"

He looked startled, waved her to a chair and said reassuringly, "No, Holly. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to ask if you'll still be doing the 'C' shift at 16's while you're doing the 'A' shift here." He sat down in his office chair, grimacing at the squeaks, and pulled out his pen and notebook.

A red flush coloured her face; she avoided meeting his eyes and mumbled, "That's the plan. I kind of, uh, accidentally destroyed part of Carl's car, so I needed to pull as much overtime in a hurry as I could. He's not _quite_ going to kill me, but he's still pretty mad about it."

Captain Stanley leaned slightly forward in his chair, a frown on his face, and asked, "What, _exactly_ , did you do?"

She squirmed a bit and said, "I kinda pulled a practical joke that sort of backfired. I meant to tell him what to do to fix things, but we had a late run that day and I forgot."

Hank gestured for her to continue, so she gulped and rushed into the explanation. "Well, he had been going on about how he could fix _any_ problem with _any_ vehicle with his eyes closed, so I pulled a trick I learned from one of my buddies on a movie set. It's guaranteed to stop a car without really damaging it. We had to film a scene where I was driving the getaway car from a robbery when the engine gets shot out. It was a budget film, so we couldn't really damage the car, but we wanted to get the idea across... Anyway, Phil just popped a couple of ping-pong balls in the gas tank, and that did the trick." She leaned forward eagerly, completely in her element. Her eyes glittered as she continued. "See, the balls get sucked into the gas feed, and the car just… dies. After a bit, the balls float back to the top of the gas tank, and the car starts normally. It will drive you crazy, because the same thing will happen over and over again. Anyway, Carl was being a real pain in the butt that day, so I just popped a couple of ping-pong balls into his gas tank, and the rest is history."

Hank was riveted. "So what happened then?"

Holly coughed nervously. "He took the engine apart and couldn't find anything wrong, so he figured it had to be the gas feed and he dismantled it. After he drained the gas, he kinda found the ping-pong balls, and my ass was grass. He knew it had to be me, even though I _usually_ specialize in Jell-O, and he gave me the bill from the garage where he did the work. The look on his face was priceless! Well, not quite _priceless_ ," she said, wincing as she remembered how much the bill was. "I'm not scheduled for any stunt work for another couple of months, and I couldn't afford to pay it unless I got some overtime, so I jumped at the chance when Don sprained his ankle the other day and couldn't cover Marco's shift any more…." she shrugged.

Hank smothered a smile, cleared his throat and said, "What happens if you've got a late run at 16's?"

Holly replied earnestly, "I've already got that one covered, Cap. Andy Fredericks, from 51's 'C' shift and Bubba Yates from 16's 'A' shift have agreed to cover if there's a late run. Bubba said he'd come in half an hour early so I could leave 16's 'C' shift, and Andy said he'd stay until I could get here. Andy said it would be a nice change to ride the engine instead of driving it. Besides, it would give him and Mike a chance to continue their endless arguments about which is the better engine – the Crown or the Ward-LaFrance. Hopefully, I won't have to call on either of them to cover for me. Anyway, it's only five shifts here and four there. It's not any more tiring than trying to get a movie under wraps. Mind you, _I_ may need a vacation after all this."

Hank said, "Well, I guess you'd better get back to work. And keep away from people's gas tanks, okay?"

"Don't worry, Cap. I've learned my lesson – besides, I can't afford to pay for the damage to _another_ car."

-E!-

While Holly had been talking with Captain Stanley, Chet had prepared a little surprise for her in the hose room. He seethed a bit inwardly, remembering the remarks she had made on the way back from the last run. _All I did was suggest that she help me out with a prank on Gage, and she comes back with 'Okay, if you're not capable of pulling a practical joke on your own, I guess I can help you.' Hah! The Phantom'll show her a thing or two about pranks..._

"Okay, Mike, I'm trustin' ya here," Chet muttered, setting the spring on the trap under the pile of untidily piled lengths of hose.

Mike grunted, as he straightened the length of hose he was working on. "Chet, I'm Switzerland – strictly neutral in all things." He reached for the broom, dipped it in the bucket of soapy water, and bent to his task. "Uh, shouldn't you be cleaning the latrines about now? Cap will have a fit if he thinks you're avoiding your favourite chore."

Chet scowled and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess I don't need to hover around…"

They both stopped talking when Holly entered the room. She looked at them suspiciously. "What's the matter, guys? Boy talk?" she asked innocently.

Chet said quickly, "Nothing important that can't wait for a while. I'll talk to you later, Mike." He slowly headed for the door, casting a speculative glance at Holly.

She stared back at him for a minute, crinkled her nose, then shrugged and asked Mike, "Which hoses need to be scrubbed and hung?"

Mike gestured to an untidy pile of hose at the side of the room. She picked up a nozzle, only to have one of Chet's water traps catch her full in the face. She gasped, startled, then looked at Chet. To both Chet's and Mike's surprise, she started to laugh. "Oh, boy, Chet, you will live to regret that! To think I was actually going to _behave_ at this station, too! You don't know what you've started, little boy!" She bent to analyze the water trap. "Hmm... a can of water attached to a spring mechanism. Crude and OLD," she emphasized, "Yet reasonably effective." She wiped her face and wrung some of the water from her hair, then walked over to Chet and shook his hand. "Let the games begin," she said solemnly with a twinkle in her eye. She slapped his back with her left hand before heading to the locker room to get a dry shirt. Chet suddenly started squirming, then swore.

Mike looked at him in surprise. "What's the matter, Chet?"

Chet quickly unbuttoned his shirt. He dropped it on the floor, and plucked the still-wriggling worm that Holly had dropped down his back from the sleeve. He looked wordlessly at Mike, who shook his head and said, "I think you're in trouble, Chet. This could be the Phantom's downfall."

Chet immediately retorted, " _Nothing_ beats the Phantom. I just have to change my strategy a bit." He shook his shirt to make sure there was nothing besides the worm there, and headed to the latrine to get started on his cleaning.

 _I wonder where she was hiding that worm?_ Mike thought, as he bent back to his scrubbing.

-E!-

Holly walked, dripping, into the kitchen to get a glass of water before heading to the locker room. Johnny stared at her, then groaned. "The Phantom?" he asked in sympathy.

She patted his cheek, a determined smile on her face as she drank her water. "Johnny, I'm a big girl now, I don't need anyone else to fight my battles for me. I kind of expected it, anyway, from what you said in the Second Alarm. Hey, I've got two weeks to get even. This is going to be a lot of fun – for me, anyway. It will be interesting to see what Chet can come up with. He doesn't know just how big _my_ arsenal is, though. Plus, I have my friends from the movie industry, and they know a _lot_ of wicked tricks. I've just got to change, then get the hoses done. Just sit tight, my friend – Chet could be in for a very uncomfortable night. Maybe not tonight, but by next shift I should have a lot more in place..." her voice trailed off as she left the kitchen. "Sorry if I dripped everywhere!" she called.

Johnny grinned in anticipation, absently mopping the floor where she'd tracked some water. _I am seriously going to enjoy this. Watch out, Chet! You don't know what this lady is capable of doing._

-E!-

Holly strode into the bathroom, carrying a dry shirt and a folded towel. "Chet, can you piss off for a couple of minutes so I can dry off and change shirts?" she asked pointedly, waving the shirt in his direction.

"Uh, sure, Holly," he replied, putting down the mop and heading to the door. "Look, no hard feelings, huh?"

She laughed and said, "No problemo, Chet – I enjoy a good joke as much as the next person. Maybe even more. No hard feelings."

When Chet was out of the room, she opened the package of Jell-O and some other things she had hidden in the folds of the towel. She carefully measured out a few ingredients not normally found in Jell-O, combined them with the contents of the package, and tossed them into the nearest toilet tank. Carefully concealing all evidence, she dried her hair as much as possible by wringing out the braid, changed her shirt, then flushed one of the other toilets. She looked at the mirror, gave herself an evil grin and a wink, and wiped the smile from her face as she left the washroom.

Chet had been pacing outside the door. "What took you so long? Did you forget how to button your shirt or something?" he griped.

"Jeez, Chet, do I have to punch a clock for bathroom time? I figured I'd use the facilities while I was there. Do you have a problem with that?" she mock-growled. "Don't forget to clean everything – something smells a bit weird in there," she said in passing, as she headed to the hose room. She bit her lip, and changed direction, heading first to the dorm.

Chet's eyebrows knitted in a slight frown and he went slowly back into the washroom. _Something's up. What the hell did you do, Holly? You didn't take anything in there...  
_  
Holly went into the dorm where Roy and Captain Stanley were discussing which hydrants the squad would be inspecting later that morning. She cleared her throat and said, "Excuse me. A word to the wise – don't use the toilet nearest the door for a while."

Roy looked at her quizzically, and Hank said in resignation, "Will this give me an ulcer?"

"I sure hope not, Cap, but _he_ started it. Nothing really destructive will happen..." she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Hank gave a long-suffering sigh. "See that nothing destructive _at all_ happens while you're here, _capisce_?"

"You bet, Cap. I'll just head back to work and warn the others."

-E!-

"So _what's_ going to happen?" asked Mike with interest as he and Holly continued to scrub and hang the hoses.

"Well, once he flushes that particular toilet, the modified lemon Jell-O mixture from the water tank will react with the chemicals in the cleaner to produce a whole lot of bright yellowy-green gobs in the toilet bowl. See, when Chet wasn't looking, I added a little something extra to the water in the toilet bowl. It works much more spectacularly if there's a bit of cleanser involved, but it will still do the trick without it." She went to the door and opened it slightly. "Any second now..." she said, grinning in anticipation.

 _ **"HOLLY!"**_ shouted Chet from the washroom. Holly galloped quickly back to the hoses and bent over them very industriously.

Mike snickered, turned to her, and asked, "How did you know how long it would take?"

She leaned over and whispered, "I just remembered how long it took for Animal to get around to doing the toilets when I pulled it on him _last_ month. It really pays to have an older brother who teaches chemistry and physics."

Chet charged into the hose room, followed by a pair of laughing paramedics, and confronted her angrily. "Do you know how long it'll take to clean up that mess?"

She leaned on her broom and tugged her lower lip, considering. "Well, if past experience is anything to go on, probably about half an hour. Of course, I could tell you how to do it, if you like, but I find that most people seem to want to work it out for themselves."

Chet threw his hands up in disgust, and muttered darkly, "Women!" He pushed past Johnny, who laughed openly at him, and Roy, who smiled broadly. "Get out of the way!" Chet fumed. He stomped his feet loudly as he headed back to the washroom.

Johnny came over to Holly, bowed gracefully, and said, "Gentlemen, we are in the presence of a genius. My heartiest congratulations, and best wishes for the next two weeks – anything we can do to help you in your war, please do not hesitate to let us know," he said grandly, leading Mike and Roy in a round of applause.

She grinned modestly, showing her dimples, and curtsied in response. "I may take you up on that one by the last shift or two. I have a few other things planned first. Many of them will involve Jell-O, of course – I _do_ have a reputation to maintain, after all – but they won't all involve that wonderful and remarkable substance. I do have a few other tricks up my sleeve, but Jell-O _is_ , after all, my trademark. I am prepared for any retaliatory action, so don't worry about me, fellas. I promise that nothing I do will affect anyone's safety or well-being, even Chet's. If we're at a fire or a rescue, it's strictly business. But back at the station, he's fair game, okay? For the time being, how about you all maintain neutrality?" she suggested.

The others nodded agreement. Johnny smiled crookedly and replied, "We hear and obey, Oh Great Jell-O Queen."

Hank poked his head into the hose room. "Are the kitchen and dorm finished, fellas?" he asked pointedly. Johnny and Roy made their excuses and went back to work. "Holly, can I see you for a minute?" Hank asked.

She nodded and came over. "Cap, I promise I'll be strictly business on the job. Nobody will..."

He interrupted her, saying, "Holly, I know that – you told me earlier. I just wanted to know what sort of dietary restrictions you have. We don't want you to have to eat separate meals or anything like that when anyone else is cooking."

She looked at him gratefully. "Thanks, Cap. I really appreciate that. The day after tomorrow is the first day of Passover, so my folks will actually be dropping by Station 16 for the Seder. But, since Wednesday is the second day, it's still one of the high holy days. I presume that everyone can deal with chicken?" At his nod, she continued, "So, that's what I'll cook. Plus, I'll introduce everyone to the wonderful world of matzoh! I'll need to bring separate cooking utensils, but that shouldn't be a problem. As far as the other meals here, I should be okay as long as I don't eat any pork products. That shouldn't bar anyone else from having them, though. I'll just ask whoever is cooking to tell me what the ingredients are. Don't worry – I'm not particularly religious, it's just that my folks would kill me if I didn't at least make an effort during the high holy days."

-E!-

 _ **"Station 51, structure fire. 1702 Center Blvd. One-seven-oh-two Center Blvd, cross street Durham. Time out, 18:27."**_

Hank thumbed the microphone as he hastily scribbled down the address. "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365." He gave the slip of paper to Roy, who handed it over to Johnny. As Hank climbed into the cab, he noticed Chet giving Holly a slightly sullen glance as she tried to engage him in conversation. Hank pursed his lips and looked at Mike, who shrugged and said, "If they want to act like kids..."

Hank nodded. "As long as they get the job done, they can play at home."

-E!-

"Well, _that_ was fun!" said Chet sarcastically as they sat down to Mike's dinner of grilled steak. "What an absolute waste of time! I wish there was some way to screen out these morons with nothing better to do than call in phony alarms – especially at dinner time."

"Hey, Chet," said Holly. "Pass me the salt, please."

Johnny caught the gleam in Chet's eyes and was about to warn Holly, when a quick look from Roy halted his efforts. Johnny winced inwardly at what he knew was about to happen. Chet had pulled the same trick on him often enough.

"Here you go," said Chet, handing over the salt shaker. As the men of 51 had expected, as Holly shook the shaker, the top fell off, spilling salt all over her food. She looked sideways at Chet and replied, "Cute. I'll have to remember that one and try it on the boys at 16's." She scraped the salt to the side of the plate, then began to eat.

Johnny was a bit surprised that Holly seemed to ignore this prank, but she caught his eye and winked at him, out of Chet's sight. Johnny hid his answering grin. _The next one will be Holly's. I wonder how she'll sabotage Chet's meal next shift?_

-E!-

They had a routine trash fire just after two in the morning. When they got back, Holly wandered to the kitchen to get some water. She passed Chet and Johnny, who were arguing about something. Chet looked at the cotton leggings she always wore and asked, "What's with the long-johns? Are you cold or something?"

She snapped back with, "No, Chet, I'm just trying to make a fashion statement." She yawned sleepily. "Look, if you two don't have anything better to do, why don't you go play on the freeway? Some of us are trying to sleep." She poured herself a glass of cold water, downed it, then poured another and took it with her back to the dorm. _Sleep well, Chet. I've got some plans for the next time…_

-E!-


	2. Chapter 2

_**Shift Two:**_

Holly strolled into the engine bay of Station 51, ten minutes before 'C' shift was due to be relieved. "Hey, guys, how's it going?" she asked.

Andy Fredericks replied, "Great. At least I won't have to stay overtime. How's Katya?"

Holly rolled her eyes and said, "Your little wifey is just fine, Andy. She'll be by to pick you up in a few minutes, once she turns the squad over to the 'A' shift at 16's. Do you think you can wait that long, or will your heart pine away in the next half hour or so?"

He smiled wryly. "Ha, ha. I think I can manage to survive. How are you finding life on the 'A' shift?"

"Interesting." She patted her knapsack and added, "Chet will never know what hit him. It's going to be a scorcher today, according to the weather forecast. I've got a couple of things I've been dying to try out, and now is as good a time as any. It's all a matter of chemistry and physics."

Andy nodded slightly, then said, "Nothing personal, but I'm sure as hell glad _I'm_ not on your shift. Just don't pass any of your recipes for disaster along to my wife – I'll sleep a lot better for it."

She shook his hand. "Andy, you've got yourself a deal. 'Course, if she just happens to pry it out of me, all bets are off – we are friends, after all. I need to go stow this stuff before Chet gets here. See you in a couple of days."

-E!-

The last item on the list of duties at roll call concerned fire inspections. Hank flipped to the last sheet on his clipboard.

"Okay. Fire inspections – Roy and Johnny, you'll be doing the Riverside Public School. Chet and Holly, you have the Broadview Public School. Mike, you'll drop them off while you and I handle the Frith Academy. Right – if we get a run, we'll bring the engine to Broadview and pick you up there. Roy, you two just head to the scene from Riverside. Any questions?" Hank turned to Holly and asked, "Do you have your shopping list for dinner? The squad can pick up what you need on the way back from Riverside."

Holly replied, "Just let me write it down – I've already put the matzoh in the kitchen, but we'll need some chicken for the main course. I'll need a couple of other things, too." She took out her notebook and scribbled down a list, then handed it to Johnny. "The last item is really important," she whispered slyly.

Johnny glanced at what she had written. He gave her a startled look, and she winked. He folded the list and put it in his pocket. _Why on earth does she want Kool-Aid? And why so many different flavours?_

-E!-

" _ **CHET!**_ " shouted Holly angrily as she got out the matzoh for the dinner.

Mike and Hank carefully hid their smiles with the sections of the newspaper they were reading. They'd both seen Chet manage to smuggle some rubber worms into the decorated bag where Holly had put the matzoh that morning. Chet sauntered into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets.

"You screamed?" he replied in a low voice, somewhat reminiscent of the butler Lurch, from the Addams Family television program.

She threw the rubber worms at him and said, "You're just lucky I'm not Orthodox. I'd have your ass in a sling – strictly Kosher preparation, of course!" Then she giggled and said, "How'd you do it? I might want to subject my brother to the same thing."

Chet folded his arms and shook his head. "Sorry, Holly, you know the rules – secrets must not be divulged. Besides," he added mockingly, "I thought you would like to work it out for yourself."

She pursed her lips and said, "Throwing my own words back at me, I see. Very well – the brakes are now off. Enjoy the next couple of shifts – I'm gonna get out the heavy artillery."

From behind his newspaper Hank said calmly, "Ramsey, remember your promise. Nothing destructive."

Holly replied innocently, "Cap, would _I_ do anything like that? Li'l old me?"

Hank lowered his paper. "See that you don't."

-E!-

"Holly, that was an excellent dinner! Even if the matzohs do taste a bit like cardboard," said Chet.

"Thanks, I think! Hey, at least I didn't subject you to the prayers and the questions that are part of the whole tradition," Holly replied. She sighed and said, "Of course, another part of that tradition involves the whole cleaning process. Why don't you all go out and play basketball or something while I make like a domestic goddess for a while? I'm sure the temperature has gone down a lot by now, so you shouldn't overheat yourselves," she suggested.

"You sure you don't need any help?" asked Mike.

"No, these are special dishes, used only at Passover. It's way too complicated to get into. Just go outside and play, boys."

Johnny wasn't fooled by her assurances. _Besides, I'm dying to know why she had us pick up so much Kool-Aid, when it obviously had nothing to do with the meal_. He cleared his throat and said, "I'll just put together some water bottles for us. Be right out." He waited until the others had gone to the court, then whispered, "What's all the Kool-Aid for?"

She looked at him and whispered back, "What took you so long to ask? I need a fellow conspirator for this one, and I was sure you'd fill the bill. You can act as the look-out. Come on," she said mysteriously, grabbing the packets of Kool-Aid.

-E!-

Johnny watched in puzzlement as she put a rubber sheet under the linen sheet of Chet's bed. He was even more mystified when she sprinkled the different flavours of Kool-Aid on top of the rubber sheet, in a pattern that resembled a rainbow. By the time she had replaced the linen sheet on top of the Kool-Aid, he was bursting with curiosity. "Holly, you've got to explain this," he said from his lookout spot at the door.

She quickly led him back to the kitchen, where they poured ice water into some bottles. "It amazingly simple," she whispered. "It's pretty hot today, right?" At Johnny's nod, she continued. "Okay, take the temperature, then add the fact that Chet will be sleeping on a rubber sheet, and what do you get? A hot, sweaty sleep. Now, when Kool-Aid gets wet, it stains things, okay?"

Johnny began to smile. "So tomorrow morning, Chet will be 'Rainbow Boy', right?"

Holly nodded, grinning widely. "And it will probably take a couple of days for the colours to wear off. I first got the idea when I spilled some Kool-Aid at a party a couple of weeks ago. I played around with it, and thought it would be good to try. I hadn't planned on testing it this soon, but I just can't stand to pass up a golden opportunity like this. Now you get out there and play with the other boys," she said, shooing him out of the kitchen.

-E!-

As everyone turned in for the night, Holly muttered to Captain Stanley, "I'll pay for the sheets, Cap, just don't let him know anything..."

Hank looked at her and whispered, "Is _this_ one going to contribute to an ulcer?"

She smiled briefly and replied in a low voice, "Not _your_ ulcer, at any rate."

Hank shook his head and looked heavenward. _Why me? Should I put a stop to this? True to their word, nothing really destructive has happened, and God knows we do need something to lighten things up on occasion, but really! Oh, well, at least we get two days off after the end of the shift_.

-E!-

Chet yawned and stretched. Despite the fact that they had had no runs the previous night, he had not slept well. He felt hot and sticky, and decided to start the day off with a nice, cool shower. He wasn't the only one who wanted a shower. He met Mike and Hank just coming back from the shower, and ran into Roy and Johnny, who was just about to step under the water. Chet turned, removed his shirt, and was startled into full wakefulness by Johnny's laughter.

"It worked! It really worked!" Johnny crowed in delight. Chet spun around, confused, and caught a glimpse of his back in the mirrors over the sink. As the other men started laughing too, Chet muttered a number of curses and tried to wash off the colourful rainbow on his back and out of his t-shirt. No amount of soap seemed to work.

Johnny said, in parting, "It should wear off in a couple of days, 'Rainbow Boy' – just keep scrubbing."

-E!-


	3. Chapter 3

_**Shift Three:**_

Holly was late. Andy Fredricks, taking things in his stride, said to Chet, "I know I'm nowhere near as cute as Holly Ramsey, but you'll just have to suffer and put up with me until she gets here. Cap," he remarked to Hank, "Station 16 had a structure fire at six o'clock this morning, and they notified Dispatch about ten minutes ago that they'd be returning to quarters in an hour. So, Holly should be here by about nine o'clock. I certainly don't mind – I can't leave, anyway, until Katya picks me up. Holly and I already agreed that each hour I cover for her equals an hour of her mowing the lawn or weeding the garden at my house. So, tomorrow I'm paroled from yard work – couldn't have been better! It's a pretty fair trade-off, all things considered."

Hank paused thoughtfully and replied, "I wonder if she'd like to do some yard work for me, too?"

Andy shook his head. "No way, Captain – see, she really _hates_ mowing the lawn! That's what will get her here as fast as possible."

"That's a good incentive, all right."

-E!-

At ten after nine, Holly and Katya arrived at Station 51. They got slowly out of Holly's car. Her voice drifted across the parking lot to the men from the 'A' shift. "Katya, you've got to let it go. There was nothing we could have done for them. They were already dead before we got through to them."

Katya replied glumly, "My head knows that, Holly, but in _here_ ," she tapped her chest, "I keep thinking we should have been able to save them."

Holly gave her a quick hug and said, "I know, Babe – look I've got to get back to work here, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

Katya tried to smile, and replied, "Give me a call after this shift is over – we can always postpone if you're not feeling up to it."

Holly replied, "I'll let you know." She reported to Captain Stanley, "Sorry I'm late, Cap – we got here as quick as we could."

Hank took one look at her sweaty, sooty face and clothes and said, "Take a few minutes to wash up and change." He paused delicately. "Rough one?"

She nodded, her expression one of misery. She gnawed at her trembling lower lip. "Rooming house fire. Three small children... died... before we could get to them. Sorry, I really don't want to talk about it right now – maybe later?" she pleaded, her eyes cast downward.

Hank said, "Sure. Whenever you want to talk, my door is always open."

"Thanks, Cap. I'll just go change now. Andy," she said, "Katya's really broken up about this – there was nothing we could do, but... she still feels really crappy."

Andy replied, "Thanks, Holly – I'll do what I can with her. Has she been able to cry, yet?" he asked in concern.

Holly shook her head. "Not yet, but she's on the verge. It shouldn't be long," she answered somberly.

"Okay, Holly – I know what to do from here. Take it easy, huh?" he said in parting.

Her voice trembled as she replied, "Don't I always?" She stopped in front of Chet, on her way into the building. "Sorry, Chet, I don't really feel like playing today. Maybe next shift?" she said wearily, her head drooping.

Chet gently put his hand under her chin and lifted it, raising her eyes to meet his. "We'll play later – the Phantom _does_ have a proper sense of timing, after all." He paused. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked softly.

She smiled sorrowfully; unshed tears glittered in her eyes. "I will be – I just have to put this one behind me. You know how it is w-when kids are involved."

"Well, when you want to talk about it, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Chet. I really appreciate that. I'll shake this mood in a while," she said.

"I know, I'm just a real sweet guy," Chet added, smirking outrageously.

She gave him a weak smile. "I don't know that I'd go quite _that_ far, Chet, but thanks all the same."

-E!-

"Station 127, Engine 60, Station 51: Warehouse fire, 2002 Baker. Two-thousand-two Baker, cross street Drake. Time out, 15:32."

"Station 51, 10-4, KMG 365," replied Hank.

As they settled in the jump seats of the engine, Chet leaned over and asked Holly, "Hey, you want to be lead man on the hose this time?"

She shrugged and said, "Sure, why not? Do you think you can keep up with me, or should I slow down and wait?"

Chet looked startled. "Why, Holly, I do believe you're turning back into your old self. More's the pity..."

She snapped back, jokingly, "And just what the hell do you mean by _that_ comment?"

Hank turned around, fixed them both with a stern glare, and said, "Children, play nice!"

Holly answered meekly, "Yes, Daddy," before she turned and stuck her tongue out at Chet.

Chet smirked, then whined, "Daddy, Daddy, she spit in my milk!"

Hank looked at Mike and said, "Do you think we can toss them out on the way to the fire?"

Mike replied, "If we do that, who's going to man the hoses? I think we'd better keep them."

Hank affected a long-suffering sigh. "I guess we don't have much choice, do we? Maybe we can teach Henry to work a hose..."

-E!-

By the time they arrived, Captain Oliver from Station 127 had deployed the crews from 127 and 60. Hank jumped out of the cab and went over to get 51's assignment. He talked to Captain Oliver, nodded and headed back to Engine 51. He pulled out his handie-talkie on the way and said, "Gage, DeSoto, take a two-inch to the west side of the first floor; Kelly, Ramsey, another two-inch to the east side of the first floor."

They waved acknowledgment. Chet bowed mockingly for Holly to grab the nozzle. She smiled, grabbed the hose and headed to the entrance of the warehouse at a run, Chet close at her heels. Roy and Johnny exchanged an amused glance as they, too, grabbed their hose and entered the warehouse.

Chet and Holly wended their way through the thick, blinding smoke on the first floor. "Can you see anything?" Chet asked, his question muffled by his SCBA.

"Nothing yet. There's a hell of a lot of smoke, and I think it's coming from back there," she replied, pointing to the back of the warehouse floor.

Chet gestured for her to head in that direction. "Lead on, MacDuff," he said lightly.

She flashed him a brilliant smile and replied, "You got it, Kimosabe."

Her mood changed abruptly when they reached the back of the warehouse. She started cursing, "SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!"

Chet tapped her shoulder. "What's up?" he asked anxiously.

She made a stabbing gesture toward a number of barrels next to the wall. "Look, Chet! Red phosphorus! If the fire gets to them, we're in real trouble. Call it in to the Captain, while I start hosing these puppies down."

As Chet pulled out his handie-talkie to report the chemicals, he didn't observe the look of sheer horror that was fixed on Holly's face as she aggressively hosed down the barrels. All of a sudden, one of the barrels furthest from them exploded. The force of the blast knocked them both to the floor.

"Goddamn, son-of-a-bitch, shit!" shouted Holly, stumbling to her feet. "Are you okay, Chet?" she asked urgently.

He shook his head as if to clear it, then replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Get the hose on those barrels while I call this in." He fumbled for the handie-talkie. "Engine 51 from HT 51."

Captain Stanley's reply was immediate. "Kelly, are you and Ramsey all right? What happened?"

"Cap, we've got some barrels of red phosphorus in here, and one of them exploded. We're hosing them down, but we still haven't found the source of the fire. It's pretty hot near these barrels, though," replied Chet. "The fire must be just on the other side from us."

Captain Oliver's voice cut in on the transmission, "All personnel! Evacuate immediately! We have hazardous materials on site! All teams acknowledge!"

"Holly! We're leaving!" shouted Chet. When she didn't answer, but kept the hose trained on the barrels as if she were in a trance, he grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her away from the barrels. "Holly!"

She glared at him angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing? We've got to wet down the barrels!"

"NO! We have to get out of here, now!" Chet insisted, grabbing the hose from her. "We're evacuating the building!"

Her eyes widened; she nodded and said, "Okay. Let's go."

Chet took out the handie-talkie. "Engine 127, this is HT 51. On the way..." his words were cut off as another barrel exploded, knocking them to the ground.

"Chet!" shouted Holly. "CHET! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Holly," he answered, rising to his feet. "I'm just peachy keen! How 'bout you?"

"I think I'll survive." She struggled to her feet, then stumbled. "Dammit!" she said, sagging against a pillar. She looked down at her leg, paling slightly as she saw the long, jagged shard of metal that had embedded itself in her shin. Her eyes widened as she looked at Chet, then she grabbed the hose from his hands and trained the stream on Chet. "Turn around, Chet!" she urged.

"Holly, what the hell are you doing? We've got to get out of here, and you've got to have Roy and Johnny look at that leg of yours!" Chet said.

"Not until we get that fucking phosphorus off you! Stand still, Chet," she ordered firmly, hosing him off.

"Holly, are you crazy?!" he shouted. "What about your leg?!"

She kept the hose trained on Chet, trying to wash away every trace of the phosphorus that had been blown onto his back by the last explosion. "The leg can wait," she answered grimly, though she was obviously in pain. "I'm not letting you get burned by that fucking stuff! That shouldn't happen to anyone!" Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Anyone else, that is – believe me, I know what it's like," she muttered.

"Holly, it's gone," said Chet.

Mechanically, she kept hosing him down, her eyes wide and staring.

"Holly!" Chet repeated.

She still gave no sign of having heard him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "HOLLY! It's okay. The phosphorus is gone." He looked into her eyes and was alarmed by the terror he saw there. "Let's get out of here, okay?" he said, more gently.

She nodded wordlessly, the adrenaline surge over.

Chet asked, "Are you okay to walk? I could carry you if you'd like."

"I'm okay," she answered numbly. "I can walk." She stumbled forward like a robot, then hissed sharply as the shard of metal was jarred against a piece of rubble. She grimaced in pain, hunched over and gasping for breath.

Chet said, "Enough of this – you're going for a ride." He scooped her up in his arms, and he hurried to the entrance. On the way outside, he pulled out his HT. "This is HT 51. We have a Code I. We're just exiting the main building now."

"Engine 127, 10-4 HT 51. Squad 51, did you copy?" said Captain Oliver.

Roy answered, "Squad 51, 10-4. On the way." He and Johnny handed their hose off to a couple of firefighters from Engine 60 and headed to the squad to get their equipment. Roy grabbed the trauma box and biophone. Johnny ran toward the entrance and shouted, "Chet! Bring her over here to the squad!"

Chet carefully lowered Holly to her feet once they had reached the squad, then helped her sit on the bumper. He was careful to make sure that nothing touched the piece of metal in her leg. She clutched the front of his turnouts. "Chet, are you sure all that stuff is off you?" she demanded.

He gently unpried her fingers and said soothingly, "Yes, Holly, it's gone. Take it easy, okay? Let Johnny and Roy take a look at your leg, now."

Holly heaved a weary sigh and muttered, "All right, on one condition."

Chet shot her a quizzical look. "Name it."

She insisted, "Promise me that you'll get under a decontamination shower RIGHT NOW! Please, Chet, it's really important."

He nodded slowly and said, "You got it, MacDuff. Now let these two take care of you."

She slumped against the squad, obviously more relaxed. While Roy took her vital signs, Johnny got out his scissors and started cutting the bottom of her pants to expose the wound. "What happened, Chet?" he asked.

"We got in there, couldn't really see anything at the front of the room, 'cause of the smoke, and we went to the back of the warehouse. Then Holly, uh,...'pointed out'... that there were barrels of red phosphorus, so we started hosing them down. Then a couple of them exploded, and Holly was hit with a piece of metal..."

Holly interrupted, " _And_ Chet got hit with some of the phosphorus, so he'd better get decontaminated, right?"

Chet replied, "All right, all right! I'm going. You two take care of my partner, okay?" He headed to the decontamination area.

Johnny had finished cutting through Holly's uniform, only to discover she was still wearing the cotton leggings underneath. "Holly," he joked, "This is no time for a 'fashion statement'." He started cutting the leggings too.

"Well," she confessed sheepishly, "They're actually a bit _more_ than a fashion statement. They help protect my legs from the uniform pants."

As Johnny finished exposing the wound, he saw the layers of scar tissue that completely covered her lower leg and he understood what she meant. He looked at her in compassion. "Holly...," he began.

She growled, "John Roderick Gage, don't you _dare_ pity me! I'm alive and healthy, and everything more or less works. So what if my legs are scarred? It doesn't make me any less of a person. I don't want, or need, any pity. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied, smiling crookedly.

She relaxed and replied, "Sorry. Overdeveloped defense mechanism, I guess. Look, can't you just pull the damned thing out and slap a bandage on it so I can get back to work?"

Johnny shook his head, and said emphatically, "No way. We can't tell what the damage is like under the skin - that piece of metal may be acting like a tourniquet for a severed blood vessel. We'll stabilize it, and transport you to the hospital, where they can remove it safely. Are you feeling dizzy or nauseated at all?"

"Not really," she answered, twisting to try to get a look at the metal shard. "Just a bit lightheaded."

"Holly, don't do that," advised Johnny. "You'll make it move around. Let me get some dressings around it to hold it in place. Then you can start peering at it. Now hold still."

Roy finished writing down Holly's vital signs and set up the biophone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

"Squad 51, this is Rampart. Go ahead."

"Rampart, we have a female, age 27, with a five-inch shard of metal embedded in her right shin, next to the bone. There is little apparent bleeding. Pulse is 90, respiration 18, blood pressure is 108 over 70. Patient is pale, cool and diaphoretic."

"51, start an IV with Lactate of Ringer's, TKO, and immobilize the object."

"10-4, Rampart." Roy prepared the IV. He noticed that Holly had paled even further, and that she winced involuntarily each time Johnny touched her leg as he immobilized the metal shard. He felt her pulse, frowned, and took another blood pressure reading.

"Sorry, Holly," said Johnny. "Nearly done. How are you doing?"

She drew in a shuddering breath. "I've been better. I guess the adrenaline is wearing off." She squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. "I'm starting to feel a bit dizzy."

Roy grabbed the biophone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51. Patient is in considerable pain, and is now complaining of dizziness. Pulse is now 110, BP is 80 over 40, respirations are 18."

"51, are there any other injuries?"

"That's negative, Rampart. We have not yet started the IV," Roy reported, pretty sure that the dose of medication would be altered.

"51, go with a 500 cc bolus of Ringer's Lactate, then take another set of vitals. If the BP is above 90, administer 5 mg MS, IV. Continue to monitor and transport as soon as possible."

"10-4, Rampart. 500 cc bolus of Ringer's, then 5 mg MS, IV if the pressure is over 90." Roy administered the Ringer's, and Johnny took a third set of vital signs after he'd finished immobilizing the embedded shard.

"Roy, pulse is still 110, respiration is now 24, blood pressure is 96 over 60."

Roy nodded, and injected the morphine. "How are you feeling, Holly?"

She smiled ruefully. "Kind of stupid, I guess. How's the fire?"

Johnny flashed her a crooked grin. "It seems to be doing just fine without us. Look, we're going to just lie you down on your left side on the stretcher. Don't help, just let us do the work, okay?" he beckoned to the ambulance crew, who brought over the stretcher.

"How's Chet?" Holly asked drowsily.

Johnny glanced over and laughed. "He's very, very wet right now. Seems that the crew from Engine 60 are taking turns on hosing him down. They look like they're having a lot of fun with it, too."

"Good," she murmured, wincing as she was lifted onto the stretcher. "Serves him right! I know from first-hand experience just how nasty phosphorus can be."

"Is that what happened to your legs?" asked Johnny.

She shuddered, then nodded. "Yeah. I was doing some stunt work for a film, and the car I was in crashed into a pyrotechnic setup. Enough fun being caught in a car on fire, without adding burning phosphorus to the whole game plan. I, uh, don't like to talk about it."

As they put her in the ambulance, Roy asked, "Is that why you got into firefighting?"

She nodded slightly, saying, "That's certainly one of the reasons. I'll see you later. Hopefully, they'll spring me after I get some stitches."

On the way to the hospital, Johnny took another set of vital signs. He scowled as he jotted them down. "Holly," he said, "Don't get your hopes up about making it back to the station today. I think they're going to want to hang on to you at Rampart for a while."

"Hmm?" she murmured, almost completely unresponsive.

"Holly?" asked Johnny. "Don't fade out on me." He picked up the biophone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51."

"Go ahead, 51."

"Rampart, patient's latest vital signs: pulse is 100, respiration is 22 and shallow, blood pressure is now 84 over 56. Patient is semi-conscious at this time. Our ETA is about three minutes."

"10-4, 51."

-E!-


	4. Chapter 4

_**Shift Four:**_

"Hey, Holly, how's the leg?" asked Roy as she arrived at the station.

"Doing okay, Roy," she answered as she aimed for the coffee pot. "The stitches come out in five days. I'm not quite ready to run a marathon, though. Dr. Early was worried about how the stitches would do, since I apparently cut a blood vessel under the scar tissue and all, but it seems to be okay. I have to go see him tomorrow. I still can't believe he took me off shift for such a minor thing."

Roy set down the coffee pot with a sharp thud after pouring Holly a cup. His expression was incredulous. "A 'minor' thing?" he asked in disbelief. "Holly, your BP dropped dangerously twice, you were on an IV for two hours, and you were given medication for the pain. You had to have surgery to fix a nearly severed vein. Even if Dr. Early hadn't grounded you, Captain Stanley would have. You're still limping a bit, no matter how hard you try to disguise it – I'm surprised he gave you clearance to come back to work at all."

She grinned. "Well, it sure as hell wasn't _easy_ to convince him. I've never done so much sweet-talking in my life! Anyway I'm here now, and ready to play with Chet again. Can I count on you for help with one of the tricks on today's menu?"

Roy frowned, and cleared his throat. "Holly, I really don't like getting involved in..."

She interrupted him, "Roy, you don't have to do anything. In fact, that's all I want you to do – _nothing_."

Roy quirked an eyebrow at her and said, "Holly, I'm a little confused."

She sipped her coffee, made a face, and replied, "Ewww! Who made this dreck, anyway?"

"As a matter of fact, Johnny did," replied Roy as Holly unceremoniously dumped the offending brew into the sink.

"What? Is it such a slow day that he's trying to create a little business for you two by poisoning the rest of us?" she replied with a grin. She grabbed a glass and poured herself some water. "Now, here's the plan – I'm gonna put a bit of chemistry into action. I've seen the way that Chet adds salt to everything, usually without tasting it first. So, I have a little plan for the salt shaker, but I need everyone to leave it alone until Chet gets it. Do we have a deal?" she asked.

At his hesitation, she cajoled, "Please, Roy? All you have to do is just stay away from the salt until this little joke takes place. It will be kind of funny, and I owe him for the trick he pulled with the salt shaker last week."

Roy sighed and gave a reluctant nod. "Okay, Holly. Count me in, as long as it isn't really dangerous."

She smiled and slapped him on the arm. "Thanks, Roy. No real danger involved. Now I just have to talk to Captain Stanley and suggest that he avoids salt for the first part of lunch. I'll see you later."

-E!-

All of 'A' shift but Chet clustered around Holly as she prepared the opaque salt shaker. They watched with fascination as she dumped out the salt, carefully poured some lemon juice into the empty salt shaker, then put some tissue paper across the top. "Hey, Johnny," she asked, as she lightly pushed the tissue down a bit. "Hand me the baking soda, would you?"

"Okay, Holly," said Mike, "Explain this one."

"Well, do you remember the classic acid/base reaction from chemistry class?" At the nods from the others, she carefully measured a teaspoon of baking soda into the depression. Then she covered the inside lid of the salt shaker with tape. "Okay. We have our acid – the lemon juice – and our base – the baking soda. Since the top is taped, the soda won't come out of the shaker. The lemon juice will contact the tissue, and soak through to the baking soda. The two will react with each other and create quite a bit of foam. At least, that's the theory. I've never actually tried this one."

Mike watched with a carefully concealed interest. He had seen some strange things done with salt shakers, but nothing quite like this. He was curious to see if it would work. The theory, he knew, was sound enough.

Everyone sat down for lunch, and there was an almost tangible air of anticipation – tangible to all except Chet. He said impatiently, "Hey, Roy, where's the food? I'm starving, here."

Roy set the meatloaf down on the table. Holly made sure that the salt shaker was beside her. As expected, Chet asked for the salt shaker before even tasting his food. Five heads leaned forward almost imperceptibly to watch what would happen. Chet frowned slightly as he shook the salt shaker and nothing came out. He turned it upright and tapped it hard on the table, then tried shaking it again. All of a sudden, the top flew off, and a veritable waterfall of foam cascaded from the shaker. He looked, dumbfounded, at the river of foam on his plate as the others doubled over in laughter. He shook his head, his lips twisted in a grimace. "Oh, MacDuff, I really wish you hadn't done that. Now I have to break out the secret weapon. I've been saving it for a special occasion, like Gage's birthday – but for you, I'm going to make an exception. Just watch out – when you least expect it, _expect_ it!"

-E!-

 _ **Engine 51. Dumpster fire in the alley behind the restaurant. 1700 West Cameron. Seventeen-hundred West Cameron. Cross-street Santa Fe. Time out 14:35.**_

"That's the donut shop!" Chet exclaimed as they pulled out of the station.

"You got a hankering for some donuts?" Holly asked with a chuckle.

"Good donut shops are hard to come by, especially one that's right around the corner. Besides, they have the best jelly donuts I've ever tasted."

"Huh. I prefer Boston cream, myself. I like the taste of the filling. Lots of opportunities for jokes there, too."

Chet smoothed his mustache, pondering…

-E!-

The rest of that shift was fairly routine – a couple more trash fires, and a child stuck in a tree. There was an eerie air of unrealized anticipation for Chet's retaliation against Holly. Everyone was puzzled that he had not yet taken revenge, despite having plenty of opportunity. Holly was particularly put out. After breakfast, she complained to Mike, "What is the point of having a war when one side runs and hides? He's not playing _fair_ ," she pouted. To her surprise, Mike suddenly laughed. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

Mike patiently explained, "I just figured it out. Holly, have you ever thought that _this_ was his way of getting even? To get you so wound up about expecting something terrible to happen, and then it never does?" As she gaped at him in astonishment, he added, "You know, it's so simple, it's beautiful."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. _Mike, I'm never sure if you're kidding or not._ A range of expressions flitted across her face, ending with a look of determination. "All right. Where's Chet?"

Mike jerked his thumb toward the parking lot. "He's out there, trying to get his fishing gear ready for his trip today. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. I just want to talk to him, that's all." She flashed him a grin and a wink, then ambled toward the parked cars. Holly headed toward Chet's van. He was seated next to the sliding door, all his attention on the tangled mess of fishing line he was trying to unsnarl.

"Dammit!" he muttered in frustration. "I'm never going to get this undone." He looked up at her as she knocked on the van's door. "What do _you_ want?" he snapped.

"Do you need a hand?" she asked quietly.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Okay," he agreed slowly. He handed her a large snarl of the line, and she squeezed next to him on the edge of the van. As she concentrated on the task at hand, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "How's the leg today?" he asked awkwardly as they continued unsnarling the fishing line.

"Sore," she replied. "But it's manageable. Doctor Early gave me some pain pills, but I don't want to take them unless it's really necessary. Look," she said, dropping her hand onto his, "Do you know what I just realized?"

"What?"

"We're having fun, sort of, trying to top each other's practical jokes, right?"

"Yeah. What's your point?" Chet asked, looking at her sideways.

"Well, the others are certainly getting a kick out of it, _especially_ Johnny."

Chet put down the line he was trying to untangle, a crafty expression appearing on his face. "You know, you're right. So... what do you think we should do about it?"

Her lips curled upward into her Cheshire-cat grin. "What do you say to a cease-fire? I think we have a perfect pigeon, just waiting to be plucked."

Chet grinned and said, "Deal. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Oh, yes! I thought of a way to combine our two trademarks – just listen..."

From his vantage point at the door to the engine bay, Mike watched Holly and Chet put their heads together, then begin gesturing as they worked with the fishing line. They started to laugh. _Uh oh – this can't be good. Should I warn the others?_ He considered it for a moment, then shook his head, a smile playing on his lips _. No, I think I'll just sit back and watch the fun. I'll just make sure that I examine everything before I touch it next shift. Those two together...be afraid, be very afraid._

-E!-

"So are we agreed, Chet?" Holly asked as they finished untangling the snarls.

"It sounds good. Silly little jokes on each other in the morning and afternoon, then we clobber Gage at night." Chet started rolling up the fishing line. "Now, how do you make the spider web out of this stuff?"

"Okay. You need about twenty pieces, each about two yards long. Tie a knot at one end and tape it to a door. Tape the loose ends out like the spokes of a spider web. Then just take some more line and weave it between the spokes, making sure you tie it off. Then you can take the tape off the door, and you've got your spider web. The fishing line makes it really hard to see, especially in the dark. I bet we could rig it from the ceiling over his bed or something," Holly said enthusiastically.

"I have another idea, too – now that I've talked to KJ over at 16's, I know a bit more concerning your total mastery of Jell-O," said Chet with a wry smile. "I don't think I'd care to be on the receiving end of some of your more… creative ideas."

"Guilty as charged. Comes in handy, having a brother who's a chemist who also likes practical jokes." She poked him in the ribs. "So, what's your idea?"

Chet leaned over and whispered in her ear. Her smile grew broader and broader and she chuckled. She nodded and replied, "Yeah, I can manage that." She solemnly shook his hand, though the dimples in her cheeks were nearly blinding. "Chet, this looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Mike, from his vantage point in the doorway, took note of this exchange. _I wonder if I can call in sick for the next shift?_

-E!-


	5. Chapter 5

_**Shift Five:**_

Holly greeted Mike as she entered the station. "Hey, Happy Easter, Mike! Was the Easter bunny good to you?" she asked cheerily.

Mike smiled in reply and said, "No...but Peggy sure was."

"Why, Mike, I do believe that falls under the area of 'Kiss and Tell', doesn't it?" she teased.

Mike shook his head slightly and answered, "You can fish all you want, but that's all you're going to get. Just to change the subject, Passover has ended, right?"

She gave a dramatic sigh, and then grinned. "That's right. Donuts are back on the menu! I'd better get changed."

The shift began with a pre-emptive strike by the Phantom. As Holly opened her locker to get a new shirt after her regular shift at Station 18, she was drenched with another of Chet's water traps, which had been hooked up to her locker door. She looked down, letting the water drip from her face to the floor. She called loudly, "Thanks, Chet – I needed a shower anyway! Don't be surprised at anything the Easter bunny brings you today!" She grabbed a clean shirt, slammed her locker door, and went to change. As usual, Chet had drawn latrine duty. She barged into the washroom, winked at him, and then pushed him out into the view of the others. "Get the hell out!" she growled, barely able to suppress a grin.

Johnny gazed at the dumbfounded look on Chet's face and said, "Jeez, Chet, I think you're in trouble now. No telling what she'll do to you today. Maybe you can hide or something."

Chet affected a look of stunned surprise. "What'd I do?" he asked the world in general, noting Johnny's reaction in particular. _Holly was right… This is gonna be sooo much fun! Gage will never know what hit him. Wait until tonight, my friend, wait until tonight._

-E!-

Holly came into the kitchen, after changing into a fresh shirt. Since she'd actually known what to expect, she had managed to take the full load of the water on her shirt, so at least she didn't have to towel off her hair this time. Not to mention that the water really _had_ been refreshing. _The angle of the spring really does affect the trajectory of the water. I'll have to pass that on to Chet._

Johnny poured a cup of coffee for himself, then asked, "You want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot," he offered.

She just managed to stop herself from backing away in disgust. "Uh, no thanks. I had some before leaving 16's." She leaned against the counter, and fished a bag of powdery tablets from her pocket. "Hey, Johnny, I got another trick from my brother. Check this out – one of these little dye pills in Chet's milk, and 'Rainbow Boy' will have a little breakfast treat to go along with his lovely shirt. It won't poison him or anything, but it will look kind of pretty. Hey, it's used for dyeing Easter eggs, so it can't be all bad, right?"

Johnny replied dubiously, "It's a good idea, Holly, but Chet never drinks milk until late afternoon. Do you think you can wait that long?"

She smiled brilliantly. "Trust me, Johnny, I've waited much longer than that on occasion to land a fish I'm trying to hook. I'll just give him a little more line, then reel him in."

-E!-

Late that afternoon, Holly poured herself a glass of milk. "Anyone else want some milk?" she asked.

"Sure, Holly, I'll take a glass," replied Chet.

She surreptitiously dropped one of the green dye tablets into his milk as she handed it over to him. It started to foam and turned the milk a bright green.

"Just a little gift from the Easter bunny, Chet," she smirked.

"Great, just great. Ha, ha. Pretty lame, really – much more like St. Patrick's day, if you ask me. I _was_ gonna offer you a donut as a peace offering, but now I'm not so sure. These _are_ the best in town, too, from 'Cap McCoy's Finest Donuts'." Chet waved the box of donuts in her direction. "Boston cream, too," he said enticingly.

She looked at the donuts longingly. "You've been talking to Animal, haven't you?" she accused. At his answering smirk, she selected one of the donuts, seemingly at random. The others in the room had no way of knowing that he and Holly had carefully choreographed both tricks. She replied, "Thanks, Chet. No hard feelings?" and took a big bite of the donut. She screwed up her face and immediately spat out into the garbage and whirled on him.

"EWWWW! Chet, what the hell did you put into these, anyway?" she said angrily.

"Just a little shaving cream, partner," he replied with a vicious grin.

"Don't you know that tampering with Boston cream donuts is a felony punishable by death?" she growled, advancing on him and brandishing the offending donut. He backed up until his shoulders were against the wall. Quite deliberately, she squeezed the donut so that its contents splattered all over the front of his shirt. He scooped up some of the residue and smeared it on her face. It dripped down the front of her shirt. No one else in the room was close enough to see the winks they exchanged.

Hank had had enough. "All right, _children_! Go clean up, and then play nice for the rest of the shift. It's Easter, for Pete's sake! Time to **forgive** and **forget** ," he emphasized. "Do I make myself understood?"

Holly glanced at Chet out of the corner of her eye and replied contritely in a little-girl voice, "Okay, Dad, we won't bug each other any more, right Chet?" She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

Chet stammered, "Uh, right. Just keep out of my way, Holly, or else," he said in mock seriousness.

Hank quirked an eyebrow. "Chet," he repeated, "Play nice."

"Right, Cap."

Once they were out of sight, in the locker room, they exchanged sneaky grins, then grabbed fresh shirts. After they'd changed, Chet whispered, "Did you get the stuff?"

She looked shocked. "Of course I did! Did you get enough spring traps rigged up?"

He bowed floridly. "Naturally. I got the fishing net set up like the spider web, too. It's in my truck. What about the spiders?"

Her face fell. "No, I couldn't get any spiders. Will a garden snake do?"

Chet laughed quietly. "That will do just fine – Gage hates snakes. Where is it?" he asked, looking around.

"It's at Katya and Andy's place. I'll just give her a call, and she can bring it over later tonight. What time is zero hour?"

Chet smoothed his mustache, considering. "What do you think about eleven-thirty? There's a Columbo double feature tonight that we'll probably watch, and we'll probably hit the sack at about eleven or so."

She nodded. "Perfect. I'll just go a bit earlier – I can always use the medication excuse."

Chet frowned and asked, "How's your leg feeling, anyway?"

She grimaced. "It still hurts like hell, but I'm hoping it will improve once the stitches come out. Captain Steele kicked me off the next shift, after what happened yesterday."

Chet asked in concern, "What happened?"

She sighed in frustration. "We had a kid get himself trapped in a fence yesterday, and I kind of got my leg caught on a nail getting him out. I didn't actually tear anything, but the damn thing was itching so much that I had to scratch it, and I kind of ripped out a couple of stitches. Katya and Animal had to take me to Rampart to get it fixed up. Can you imagine, a trip to the hospital _and_ back in the squad while they do a supply run, with a paramedic on either side of you lecturing you about your stupidity? Anyway, Doctor Early ratted on me to Captain Steele, and, uh, 'suggested' that I get the stitches out on Tuesday, which is my normal shift there. Sooooo, he pulled rank on me, and made me take a sick day."

"Does Captain Stanley know?" Chet asked.

She looked sheepishly up at the ceiling and whispered, "Not from me, he doesn't. I think Captain Steele forgot to call him, so I'm not making any waves. Don't _you_ dare tell him, either."

-E!-

"You can? Katya, that's great. Okay, I'll meet you outside in half an hour...Yes, I know what to do. I'll be careful with it... _her_? How can you tell it's a female?" Holly listened for a minute, rolled her eyes, then said, "Yes, I'll bring _her_ back to you tomorrow when the shift is over. Thanks, Katya. See you in a bit...bye." She hung up the telephone, then turned to Chet and said, "It's all set. She's going to get the snake and bring it, I mean _her_ , over now. I just have to give her some milk before bedtime, and make sure that Johnny doesn't hurt her."

Chet smiled and he and Holly exchanged a 'high five'.

Mike cleared his throat behind them. "Excuse me, but I think a snake is taking things a bit far."

Chet and Holly whirled in surprise. "Mike! How long have you been standing there?" asked Holly, looking as if she'd been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

Mike folded his arms across his chest, cocked his head to the side and said calmly, "Long enough to know there's something you don't want Captain Stanley to know. I think that gives me a little... leverage, don't you?"

Chet said ruefully, "Busted, Holly. Okay, Mike, what do we have to do?"

Mike put a comradely arm around both their shoulders. "Right. To start with, no snakes. The spider web is okay, the Jell-O cannon is okay, too. For the sake of morale, I'm even willing to get my shirt messed up along with everyone else's – you can keep the Jell-O traps in the lockers tomorrow. But that's _it_. Understood?" he said quietly, but firmly.

They both nodded. Chet asked in puzzlement, "Why, Mike? If you've known all along, why did you keep silent?"

"Well, Chet, the Phantom certainly has a place in helping keep things lighter around here, even if Johnny always seems to be the target. For the past couple of weeks, Johnny's had a bit of a break from that routine, and he's starting to get a bit complacent. That's making him a bit too cocky, and that's not good for the station. So, in the interests of keeping things running smoothly – go get him, kids," he finished with a smile.

Holly looked at him with new respect in her eyes. "You know, Mike, you're going to make a wonderful captain someday, you really are." She glanced at Chet, who was nodding in agreement. "Okay, we have a deal. Thanks – and don't worry. I'll call Katya back and get her to keep 'Zelda' home."

Mike said, "I'll be keeping my eye on you, Holly. If the leg gets to be too much, just let me know." He gestured to the phone. Holly placed the call, then she and Chet started to prepare the trap for Johnny.

-E!-

"Enjoy the rest of the movie, guys – I'm turning in a bit early," said Holly, rising from her place on the couch.

"Don't you want to see the end of the film?" asked Roy.

Holly yawned and replied, "Roy, it's a Columbo movie. He'll solve the crime and the killer will be arrested at the end. It'll be on in repeats soon enough. Besides, my leg is sending me some signals that are pretty hard to ignore. Nighty-night, everyone."

As they bade her good night, Holly's mind was racing as she ran over the steps for the double trap and checked the appropriate equipment. _All I need to do now is check the aim of the cannon. The trigger mechanism is well-hidden in my bed, and the cannon is just at the edge of the curtains. The spiderweb is already in place, and it will drop just before the cannon starts firing. It would have been a lot more fun with the snake, but I guess Mike has a point. Still, when I try this at Station 16, I'll be sure to borrow a little surprise for Animal._

-E!-

"I'm telling you, Johnny, that Columbo is a genius! He's the greatest detective ever!" Chet said with enthusiasm, as the rest of the shift turned in.

Johnny snorted contemptuously, "Chet, it's a television program! The guy is an actor. Real detectives don't work that way."

Holly gave a soft chuckle. _No, **real** detectives work like Mike Stoker. How did he find out so much, anyway?  
_  
As they settled in for the night, Chet padded past, ostensibly to get a drink of water. He lightly tapped Holly's bed, clearing his throat. She readied the Jell-O and loaded the cannon. Chet made much more noise returning to bed than was strictly necessary, but it gave Holly the cue she needed.

Three people silently began a countdown, then...

 _ **"What the hell is going on?!"**_ shouted Johnny as the fishing-line web dropped on him. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the Jell-O cannon went into operation, bombarding him with small cubes of Jell-O. He was so tangled up in the 'spiderweb' that he couldn't evade the Jell-O. He began cursing as he tried to disentangle himself. _**"Dammit! Chet! Holly! You'll pay for this!"**_

As Hank snapped the lights on, he could only stare in disbelief at the sight before his eyes. He watched silently as five more Jell-O cubes were lofted from behind the curtain where Holly's bed was situated, and landed, quivering, on top of the trapped paramedic. He looked at Johnny struggling to get free of the net, and then he directed his gaze up to the nearly invisible rigging that Holly and Chet had set up to drop the net in the first place.

Roy and Mike were collapsed on their beds, helpless with laughter. Johnny's face was getting redder and redder. He finally succeeded in getting out of the web. He stood up, his face furious, and moved threateningly toward a grinning Chet. Captain Stanley's voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "Gage, **no**! Kelly, Ramsey, in my office, **NOW**!"

They sheepishly followed their fuming captain, avoiding Johnny's angry stare. Hank firmly slammed the door, and then sat down wearily at his desk, cradling his head in his hands. "Why me?" he implored. "Why?"

Chet asked tentatively, "Uh, Cap?"

"Shut up, Kelly, I'm trying to think." He paused, and then said, "All right. The first thing I want you two to do is go clean up that mess. Then dismantle everything you've rigged up. Then I want to see you back here. Get moving, _now_!"

"Yes, sir!" replied Holly crisply. She and Chet scuttled out of the office, making sure to shut the door. As they exchanged glances, they were surprised to hear a small explosion of laughter from behind the closed door. They grinned, then wiped the smirks off their faces as they headed back to the dorm.

They quickly cleaned the mess while Johnny muttered about revenge, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Holly and Chet. Roy and Mike just sat back and watched, being very careful not to get involved. As they took apart the rigging that had held the fishing web in place, Johnny stalked to the washroom in disgust. The atmosphere in the dorm immediately lightened. Roy asked, "How did the two of you manage to put aside your own differences long enough to come up with this collaboration?"

Chet replied earnestly, "We just realized that everyone else, especially Gage, was having more fun than we were. So, we took some steps..."

"A little too far, don't you think?" asked Roy.

Chet snorted, "We didn't go quite as far as we originally planned..."

Holly hissed, "Shut _up_ , Chet! Do you want to get us in more trouble than we already are?"

Roy looked at them speculatively, but said nothing. Johnny returned, flounced into bed without looking at anyone, then turned his back on the other and pointedly pulled the covers over his head. Holly and Chet gathered all the paraphernalia from their tricks and headed to the Captain's office.

Hank looked at them silently for so long that Chet started to fidget. "Kelly, quit that. Okay, the pair of you. Here's the drill: Chet, you're on latrine duty for a month. Holly, I'm calling Captain Steele on Tuesday to recommend the same thing for you. Any questions?"

Holly stammered, "Uh, Cap... I…I won't be on duty Tuesday. But you can go ahead and call him anyway – I'm sorry, Cap. I guess things got a bit out of hand..."

Hank looked at her. "I think that's a bit of an understatement, don't you? And exactly _why_ won't you be on duty Tuesday?"

She squirmed under his gaze, then stared down at the floor and confessed, "Uhmmm…I kind of had a bit of an accident on shift yesterday, and I had to get more stitches in the leg. Dr. Early wants to take them all out on Tuesday, so Captain Steele kind of, er, 'suggested' that I take the day off. I don't know what he's so worried about."

Hank sighed. "I think I do, though. Okay, I'll get in touch with him, anyway. Now do you two think you can go to sleep without trying any more funny stuff? Because if you do, I'll have your butts in a sling for the rest of your lives. Understood?"

They both nodded solemnly.

"Dismissed. Now get to bed."

-E!-

As the 'B' shift relieved them at Station 51, the 'A' shift discovered the last of the tricks. Holly grabbed Chet's arm and said, "Nuts! I forgot about the lockers!"

Chet grimaced at the furious yells from the locker room, then turned and asked her in all seriousness, "Just how quickly do you think we can run?"

-E!-E!-E!-

 _Author's notes: This is a revision of a story I wrote originally about fifteen years ago. I've got four OCs involved, including three female firefighters (two of whom are paramedics, which I know is non-canon). Although there weren't many female firefighters during the period the show ran, there certainly were some, and I'd like to think that our fellas at 51s weren't too chauvinistic. I joined the reserves in 1978, so I've experienced first-hand the general climate towards women in non-traditional male-dominated positions, especially during the show's time period, but I didn't have too many problems ignoring the slurs and attitudes, and becoming one of 'the boys'. Probably, the fact that I have three brothers and no sisters helped get my head in the right place for some of the things I ran into along the way…_


End file.
